


All the Time in the World

by ThePeak



Series: Get With the Times [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blue Discharge, Coming Out, Ellen DeGeneres is sort of in this, Grieving, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve isn't quite with the times yet, Suicidal Ideation, Tony's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:18:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2446754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePeak/pseuds/ThePeak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I think it's easy for all of you to forget that for me, the war wasn't 70 years ago. It was last month."</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Time in the World

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, silly question readers, but did somebody add this fic to a rec list or something? Because its had a really strange influx of traffic lately and I don't know why.

It's a month or so after the Battle of New York, and America wants answers. The circumstances of the Chitauri invasion have been covered at length by every official SHIELD could throw at the media, but people aren't satisfied. Tony Stark they know and love, but the rest of the Avengers? They're all unknowns. The Avenger that has the world most intrigued, though, is the one who wears Captain America's uniform.

Before the battle, the world still hadn't known Captain America had been found. Now, he's plastered over every newspaper cover and magazine from TIME to People. Some people are outraged that SHEILD let anyone but Captain Steve Rogers wear the uniform while others demand answers. Fury decides it’s time to let them know their beloved Cap is really back. The press conference is arranged, and Steve stands in uniform backstage.

"Nervous?" Tony asks with a cocked brow. He's weaseled his way in under the pretense of driving Steve to the press conference, but he's there just in case this whole thing becomes a train wreck. He'd rattled off some long monologue about being a master of press damage control, which he knows Steve doubts very much, but he also knows Steve understands what he was really saying; _if things so south, I'll be here to bail you out._

"Nah, not nervous," Steve says with a shrug. "Not like I haven't been on stage a hundred times before — in _tights_. This," he says, tugging at his new uniform, "is definitely better."

Tony has no time to respond before Steve is being beckoned on stage. He's met with thunderous applause, and for a moment it looks like he forgets he isn't selling war bonds. He waves almost theatrically and flashes a smile. SHEILD's press team had decided it was best that Steve not wear the helmet so people could see his face; the real Captain Steve Rogers. As Steve finds a podium with microphones rather than a line of chorus girls, he grips the sides with gloved hands and nods at the crowd as they begin to settle.

He flies through his prepared material after only a handful of expected questions; his miraculous survival, his affiliation with the Avengers, his adjustment to the 21st century. Tony is impressed with just how well Steve does in the hot seat. But just as Tony had warned, the questions began to get fairly personal. He handles them all with what Tony considers unprecedented grace, until a man raises his hand and asks about Bucky.

"Your friendship with Bucky Barnes is the stuff of legend, and there's speculation that it might just _be_ legend. In your absence, historians have compiled a fair amount of compelling evidence that your relationship with Bucky was more than just the 'greatest friendship of all time'. _The Other Cap_ was particularly convincing. Have you heard any of these arguments, and if so, what do you have to say?"

For the first time in the interview, an answer does not come easily to Steve's lips. Tony watches nervously as Steve fails to dawn his patented Captain America grin and give them a lighthearted sound bite to quote in their papers. His jaw is clenched, and from the wings Tony can see Steve shift uncomfortably on his feet behind the podium. The train wreck has arrived much sooner than anticipated.

"First of all," Steve says after a tense pause, "It's Sergeant Barnes. He earned that title, so you’d do well to use it, son. Secondly," he softens a bit as his grip on the podium loosens. "I think it's easy for all of you to forget that for me, the war wasn't 70 years ago. It was last month. Sergeant Barnes fell on May 5th, 1945, and _I_ fell the very next day. They found me in April, and the Battle was in May. For me, my best friend has only been dead for a few weeks, and with everything that's been going on, I haven't..."

Steve wavers. Tony has barely had enough time to get to know the kid (because Tony hates to admit, factoring out his time on ice, the Cap hasn't even hit 30 yet so he is definitely a kid compared to himself). But even knowing Steve for a few short weeks, Tony _feels_ for him. It's kind of difficult not to care about somebody who helped you save the world. He doesn't want to hear what he suddenly knows Steve is about to say, because a guy like Steve doesn't _deserve_ to hurt that much.

"I haven't exactly had time to grieve," Steve finally finishes, and Tony can feel the collective hitch of breath of the audience.

Steve is right. Nobody, not even Tony, had stopped to think about _Steve's_ time line. The fall of Sergeant James Barnes is old news, ancient history. They'd all learned about it at school. Hell, they'd even seen it on the big screen when after his Indiana Jones trilogy, Steven Spielberg made a Captain America movie in the early 90s. The actor who played Steve had even won an Oscar for his gut wrenching reaction to Bucky's fall. It was as famous a scene as Han Solo's " _I know_ " or Rose's " _I'll never let go, Jack_."

For Steve, though, it isn’t history, or even cinematic history. It was real, and it's still a raw, open wound that hasn't even had a chance to begin healing.

The uncomfortable silence is broken by Steve before Tony can think of a way to intervene. "I woke up and everyone I ever knew is dead or dying. As Captain America, I will continue to serve my country in whatever capacity I'm needed, but as Steve Rogers..." Steve ducks his head for a moment, and Tony aches at the sheepish grin he sees Steve wearing. Even hurting, Steve is doing his best to put on a brave face for America. "I need some time to adjust, y'know?"

Tony takes this as his cue.

He emerges from the wings and steps into the blaze of the stage lights. He claps a hand on Steve's shoulder like it's an old, familiar gesture between the two of them, but it isn't. Tony hasn't so much as shaken Steve's hand since the Battle, but like the Captain, he knows how to put on a show.

"And I think _that_ is time," he says, leaning toward the mics in front of Steve and ending the conference. They're done, and Tony can feel the tension in Steve's shoulder dissipate. The crowd claps as Steve bids them all a good evening (ever the gentleman), and the two make their exit. Steve doesn't say a word until they're back in Tony's Lamborghini.

"Thank you," Steve says quietly. It's raining, and Tony just barely hears him over the patter of water pelting the windshield.

"Hey, no problem Cap," Tony says lightly. "If I had a dollar for every time Pepper or Rhodey bailed me out of an interview I'd...well, I wouldn't be richer, really, but you get the picture."

Steve snorts softly, looking out the spotted window as New York blurs by. They're headed to the tower, where Steve begrudgingly agreed to stay. They're still very involved in the post-battle relief, and it was better to stay in a central location with what remained of the Avengers. Tony knows he'd rather be on his own, though.

There's a strange atmosphere in the car, and Tony's sure he's about to say something he usually wouldn't. It's out of his mouth before he knows what it is.

"I'm sorry," and while it's true, it isn't something he'd normally vocalize. Maybe it's the fact that they're in a car that makes the words come out, where Tony has the excuse of looking at the road rather than meeting Steve's eyes. "For the old man jokes."

At this, Steve actually laughs.

"Don't be," Steve chuckles, and Tony can see him grinning out of his peripheral. "Bet its nice having somebody older than you on the team, huh? Otherwise _you'd_ be the resident old man."

"Wow, totally uncalled for, Cap. I retract my heartfelt apology."

Steve laughs again, and Tony feels better for it. He doesn't bring up the press conference, or what Steve said about grieving. He hopes that his apology is acknowledgment enough that he's sorry he forgot to consider that Steve might not be taking this all as well as he appears to be. Constantly reminding him that he's a man out of his time _probably_ hadn't helped.

The rest of the drive is silent and uneventful. They part ways in the elevator on the tower's residential floors. Natasha and Bruce are there as well. Clint is off doing who-knows-what for SHIELD while Thor is back in Asgard. Tony finds the two in his partially repaired living room.

"You two got back fast," Bruce says, craning his beck to see Steve over the back of the couch. He and Natasha are watching a bunch of balding news anchors bicker about the conference and over-analyzing Steve's answers. Natasha turns the volume down as Tony plops down beside them.

"I think Cap just wanted to get home," Tony shrugs. "That last one really threw him for a loop."

"I think he handled it well, considering," Bruce mused.

"Considering?" Tony didn't follow.

"I don't think an insinuation like that would have gone over well in Cap's day," Bruce shrugged.

Tony chuckles in agreement. They watch the aftermath on TV in relative silence, until Bruce decides he's turning in. Nobody on TV is saying much of anything, just regurgitating whatever Steve has already told them with bigger, unnecessary words. Some start to argue that his last answer wasn't an answer at all, that he was _evading_. Tony snorts at the absurdity.

“ _Sir_ ,” Jarvis chimes, “ _there's a disturbance on Captain Rogers' floor and I do believe he requires medical attention._ ”

“What?” Tony snaps to attention, and Natasha is already on her feet. “Is someone in on his floor?”

“ _The wounds appear to be self-inflicted, sir,_ ” JARVIS tells them as they swiftly make their way into the elevator.

After a short ride and an override code to get in Steve’s locked floor, the doors open into Steve's foyer. The apartment unit is open concept, and they have a view of both the kitchen and the living room. There's a couch overturned and one of the kitchen bar stools is in pieces on the wrong side of the room. Things are knocked out of their proper places, and the lights are off. Despite the poor lighting, Tony can see Steve from the side, slumped on the floor with his back against the wall.

The glass coffee table is shattered, and the shards crunch underfoot as Tony and Natasha make their way through the living room.

"Cap?" Tony asks hesitantly.

"I'm sorry," Steve says, and Tony nearly flinches at the dead tone of his voice. "About the furniture."

"Don't worry about the furniture Steve. It's replaceable," Natasha says in a deadpan, but her voice softens as she continues. "You aren't, though. Take it easy on yourself."

Tony isn't sure what Natasha meant at first, but then he catches sight of Steve's bloodied knuckles. Like the walls in Tony's living room, the walls of Steve's floor are exposed concrete. Probably a little too modern for Cap's tastes, but Tony doubted that was why they were now pocked with bloodied, fist sized craters.

Tony and Steve seemed to realize the state of Steve's knuckles at the same moment. Steve splays his fingers out before himself, weakly examining the damage as if he were noticing it for the first time.

Steve huffs. "Takes a hell of a lot more than that to do me in, apparently." 

Natasha is the first to make a move toward Steve, but he drops his head and holds a bloodied hand in his hair, his arm shielding his face. "I'm sorry," he says again.

"About what, Steve?"

There's a sharp intake of breath from Steve and Tony beings to panic. This is too personal. He's invading Cap's privacy and dealing with this sort of stuff is not in his wheelhouse and _oh god_ he needs to go but he's rooted on the spot and -

" _Fuck_ ," Steve whimpers, actually _whimpers_ , as both hands now clutch angrily at his hair, and Tony's a goner. He's in this for good now. With that one curse, he's seen Captain America shatter, watched the American symbol of strength and perseverance crumble, and there's no pretending he isn't part of this moment now.

"I'm so sorry," Steve gasps, and he's shaking. Natasha is crouched in front of him, looking like she wants to touch Steve but isn't sure if it's welcome. She's braver than Tony, though, and leans forward to place a gentle hand on Steve's knee.

"It's alright, Steve," she coos, and it's the sweetest Tony has ever heard her voice. Her thumb strokes softy against his knee and Steve shakes his head jerkily.

"No," he moans. "They should've picked someone else. It shouldn't have been me."

"Picked someone else for what?"

"This," Steve drops a hand to gesture to himself. Or rather, to his body.

"You think somebody else should have been picked for the serum...?" Natasha's the one to put it together, but Tony, for once, is the one to react.

"Now hold up there, Steve," Tony says, realizing somewhere in the back of his mind it's the first time he's actually called Cap by name. "I might not have seen eye to eye with Dad, but if he told me once, he' told me a thousand times, _you_ were the perfect choice."

Steve shakes his head harder than before.

"They were wrong. _I'm_ wrong. I'm not-" Steve cuts himself off, making himself impossibly smaller before finishing weakly with " _good_."

There are things that just don't make sense, Tony thinks, but the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard is the idea that Captain America is _not good_. Tony doesn't know how to tell him that, though. He's no use in these emotionally charged situations, never has been, and it's only gotten worse since the Battle. Again, Natasha is the one to come to the rescue.

"Steve," she begins cautiously. "Is this about that Sergeant Barnes question?"

Steve's head snaps up. Tony has inched his way closer, and now he wishes he hadn't because he has a clear view of the terror on Steve's face. He jerks his knee out from under Natasha's hand and presses himself harder into the wall. His eyes track from Natasha to Tony, then to the door. He doesn't get up and bolt, though it looks like he'd like to do nothing more. Instead, he's frozen for a moment before his head tips back until it _thunks_ against the wall. His eyes don't shut. They look, with an unseeing glaze, towards the ceiling. Tony's never seen such visceral defeat in someone's posture.

"I'm sorry," Steve says once more, but Tony thinks he's not really saying it to either of them.

"What did he mean?" Steve finally asks after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "The reporter. What did he mean about _The Other Cap_?"

"It was a book," Tony supplies, though he's not sure it's wise to tell Steve at this very moment. He doesn't know what else to do, though. Either way, Steve will find out about it eventually.

"About me?"

"There are lots of books about the Star Spangled Man with a Plan," Tony tries to joke, but it falls flat.

"What did it say?" Neither Tony nor Natasha wants to answer, and Steve becomes impatient. “ _Tell me_.”

"The book was about how you and the Sarge might have been... _more_ than friends. Lots of people think it's just crackpot theories, though." Tony doesn’t mention that there are lots of people who believed the theories, too.

By the way Steve slams his eyes shut and lets out a shaky breath, Tony knows they're not just theories.

"How?" Steve breathes. "We were so _careful_."

There wasn't a lot of evidence, but just enough to be compelling. The speculation began to arise when letters from Steve to Bucky during the war had resurfaced. Apparently, Howling Commando James Montgomery Falsworth had salvaged them from Bucky' meager belongings after his death. Nobody was sure why. Perhaps out of sentiment, because if he had meant to protect his fallen comrades, he would have done better to burn the letters. Whatever the reason, they remained untouched, left in an attic until Falsworth passed away. They were recovered by his grandson, who rumors say was financially ruined and sold the letters for an exuberant price.

There was nothing explicitly revealed or stated in the letters. Like Steve said, they _had_ been careful. But there was just enough to make people curious if they looked hard enough. Too much familiarity, words too emotional for "just friends", Steve's sketches in the margins too detailed and thoughtful to be absentminded doodles. With how much effort Steve seemed to have put into them, people imagined they were gifts to a homesick Sergeant Barnes.

The book had also explored other conspicuous aspects of their relationship. It cited their shared apartment in Brooklyn, Steve's mad, solo attack on that first HYDRA base, the sacrifice of his own life just the day after Bucky's death, and more. Most of it was guesswork and conjecture, but Tony knew people love a good conspiracy theory. The book had sold incredibly well.

Tony explains this in more or less words and gently as he can. Despite his efforts, Steve grows progressively more pale.

"They'll strip his medals," Steve says, bringing a hand to his face again. "They would've given us both blue tickets back then, but now they'll just take his medals and make everything he's ever done a joke. They'll make him into _nothing_.”

“They're not going to take his medals away, Steve,” Natasha shook her head. “He's a hero. Nothing's going to change that.”

“What's a blue ticket?” Tony asks, his curiosity getting the best of him. It's certainly not the right time to ask, but he's grasping at straws for what to say.

“A blue discharge...” Steve says, but Tony and Natasha still don't understand. “Regulation 615-360, section 8,” he supplies unhelpfully.

“Gonna need some more context here, Cap,” Tony jokes lightly.

“You don't know what...you've never heard of a blue discharge?” Steve says, and there's something almost hopeful in his voice.

“No, and if you don't tell me what it is, I'm gonna have to look it up,” Tony says, pulling his phone out of his pocket with a flourish.

“It's the discharge category for...homosexuals,” Steve says, nearly tripping over the word. “Bucky...he always said he'd die before we got blue tickets to a military psych ward. Guess he got what he wanted. Half of it, at least.”

“Steve, you're not going to a psych ward,” Natasha tells him flatly.

“Yeah, if anyone belongs in one, it's me,” Tony quips to try and lighten things. Steve laughs, but it's dark.

“I though the serum might fix it, but it was the one thing it _didn’t_ fix,” Steve says, and it’s the most venomous Tony’s ever heard his voice.

“There's nothing _to_ fix,” Natasha says, but it isn't harsh this time. “There's nothing wrong with you, or Sergeant Barnes.”

“Nothing wrong?” Steve practically yells, and he's on his feet in an instant. “When I saw Bucky again, I was _glad_ the serum didn't make it go away! I was glad I still loved him and I _hated_ myself ever for wishing I wouldn't. I could be normal and lose him, or I could be like _this_ and have him. And now it doesn’t even matter because he’s _gone_. No matter what, it's all fucking _wrong_.”

Tony's caught in one of those moments where he’s out of his suit and he realizes how inordinately large Steve is. His shoulders are drawn up and he looks ready for a fight, bloody fists clenched and all. But the enemy here isn’t something he can hit, and Tony’s walls aren’t a proper substitute, so he’s stuck; a tightly wound wire ready to snap.

Tony’s never heard profanities from Steve, not even during battle, and it makes him think that Steve must feel helplessly cornered. His secret is out. Some people might be speculating, but Tony and Natasha _know_. “ _You're not going to a psych ward,_ ” Natasha had said. Did Steve honestly think they were going to turn him in? And that if they did, that Fury would _lock him up_ for this? Tony knew they weren’t particularly close, but they were _teammates_ , dammit. It hurt more than Tony wanted to admit that Steve didn’t trust him with this.

"Let me show you something, Cap," Tony says. He finds the TV remote laying in the scattered remnants of the coffee table. He flips on the TV, and selects a show from the on demand menu. A woman with short hair wearing a blazer and tennis shoes is on stage talking to a laughing audience. Tony mutes the show before continuing. "This is Ellen DeGeneres. She's has her own TV show - that I've been on, by the way - she's hosted the Oscars _twice_ , she's been in a Disney movie and she has millions of fans. She is crazy famous and people love her."

Steve seems to be taking in what Tony was saying, but not caring. Tony pulls out his phone and does an image search. Finding what he wanted, he thrusts the screen toward Steve. "And _this_ is her smokin' hot wife, Portia."

Tony can see the pieces fall into place in Steve's mind. His eyes flick from the TV to the phone screen, his eyebrows rising as it comes together.

"Wife?"

"A lot of things have changed, Steve," Natasha says. "It hasn't everywhere, and thing still aren’t perfect, but its better. It’s not like it used to be. Same-sex relationships are alright now.”

“They’re really married?” Steve says a little breathlessly. His eyes are tracking Ellen’s every move on the screen. She’s playing some silly game with a few members of the audience. Steve’s brow is creased in worry. “And they’ll be… _safe_?”

Tony can’t help but smile to himself. Leave it to Captain America to be so concerned about people he’s never met.

“Yes,” Natasha nods. “So will the memory of Sergeant Barnes. _And_ you.”

“I guess this wasn’t covered in your ‘welcome to the 21st century’ pamphlet,” Tony says, and Steve lets out a genuine chuckle, albeit a little shaky.

“No, it definitely wasn’t,” Steve agrees. He runs a hand over his face and tears his eyes away from Ellen to give Tony and Natasha a guilty look. “I’m sorry. It’s…just really different. Never would have thought…Bucky’d be so _happy_ …”

Steve looks away quickly and Tony winces as he realizes that Steve has begun to cry. He slumps into the one armchair not overturned and watches Ellen as the tears obscure his eyes.

“I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to live without him, even though we could never...” Steve pauses and scrubs at his face furiously. “Taking the plane down...it felt _good_ , and now I'm in a world where we could be okay, and he's _dead_.”

Steve buries his face I his hands and his fingers curl painfully into his hair. He’s shaking with the effort to keep it in, and it makes Tony ache. He knows Steve can hear the glass crunching beneath his feet as he approaches, but Steve still flinches when Tony squeezes his shoulder. He keeps his hand there as he speaks.

“You’ve got all the time in the world now, Steve,” he says, and it does the trick. Steve lets out a shuddered sob and begins to weep in earnest.

Finally, he begins to grieve.

**Author's Note:**

> There's been requests for a post-CATWS sequel, so check back for that soon. Thanks for reading.
> 
> "Blue Tickets" or Blue Discharges were a real thing. I promise I didn't just make that up. I wish they had only been fictional, though.
> 
> I made a Tumblr that I don't know how to use. Come have Stucky feels with me if you'd like:  
> im-gonna-stand-on-the-peak.tumblr.com


End file.
